POETRY CAFÉ
I love to write fresh poems
They smell like steaming coffee
The flowers in my brain
get posted on a small paper bulletin board
Then people can see the menu
of my thoughts, like watching
the spots on a spotted chair
Each line is an easel
for a feeling
hanging like a lamp
Sometimes I think I am
a soda can wanting to
outshine a plate of cake
But the truth is I wish something more
to be as ubiquitous as the imitation wall clock
on your laptop
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